


The Boy with the Stutter

by Warmhandscoldheart



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Needles, No Incest, Non-Binary Klaus Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, Substance Abuse, Trans Male Character, Transgender Diego Hargreeves, can't believe i have to say that, eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-08 21:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18903415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warmhandscoldheart/pseuds/Warmhandscoldheart
Summary: Anon request on tumblrFive times Diego stuttered and one time he didn't. With some trans!Diego sprinkled in there because I will die for this hc





	1. Chapter 1

Diego’s stomach dropped and the world seemed to slow down. His cheeks fluttered as he tried to force the words out of his mouth, but his lips were lead and they refused to budge. “M…” He tried to start again, but the sound died on his tongue.

The interviewer frowned and glanced back at the producer, who could only offer a shrug in return. Nobody could have ever expected one of the children to have a stutter, especially a witty, confident one like Diego. Just out of the shot, Allison put a comforting hand on his back. _Just picture the word in your mind,_ Diego thought to himself with a deep breath before trying to answer the question one last time.

“My father trains us individually,” Diego couldn’t hide the relief he felt when the words came out uninterrupted. “Mine is a lot of target practice around corners and stuff. We also test to see how long I can hold my breath.” That last sentence made his tongue heavy, but by some miracle he was able to talk through it with only a slight slur. Allison’s hand held firm on his back; she knew just how hard individual training was for him.

“How interesting!” The interviewer was quick to bring the attention back to herself and away from the lapse in poise from the Academy. “Sadly, that’s all we have time for. Thank you so much for joining me today! I hope to talk to you soon.” She grinned and shook each of the six childrens’ hands as they stepped out of the shot.

They filed out of the room, none of them surprised to see Reginald waiting just outside the door with his foot tapping impatiently. He led them to the car with his head held high.

“Dad, I’m—” Diego’s apology was interrupted by a curt noise from Reginald.

“Meet me in my office when we get back to the Academy, Number Two.” He stepped into the car and the others followed suit, the tension making the air so thick they could cut it with one of Diego’s knives.

“Yes sir,” Diego looked down at his lap.

The clock said the car ride only took thirty minutes, but Diego mentally argued that it was more like thirteen hours. However, the car arrived back at the Academy while the sun was still setting, so he let the clock win. Their shadows stretched across the dark pavement as Diego watched his siblings scurry to their rooms, away from any fallout that may come from Reginald’s anger. Sadly, he couldn’t follow them. Instead, he followed Reginald through the twisted halls to his office.

It was a cold, uninviting one, much like its owner. The decor was dated, the furniture was uncomfortable, the fireplace was perpetually stagnant, and there was a constant draft that bit at one’s ankles. Diego shivered from his place in front of the desk, but wasn’t allowed to move his hands from their position behind his back to comfort himself.

“Number Two,” Reginald barked, making Diego jump. “Today, you stuttered during an interview, directly disobeying my orders. I have no other choice but to up your training. Follow me.” With that, Reginald swiftly exited the office and moved through the Academy with ease, Diego struggling to keep his composure as he tried to keep up with the man’s long legs. When they finally came to a stop, they were somewhere deep in the basement. The walls were dark, like those of a cave, and it felt like they were closing in around him. “It is my understanding that your stutter is most present in times of stress. Therefore, we will be working to desensitize your body’s response to stress by repeated, prolonged exposure to it.” Reginald turned and left Diego alone in the room.

It took a few minutes for anything to happen. Diego was starting to think this new special training was just solitary confinement—nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. That strain of thought halted when three people strode into the room, one pushing what seemed to be a cart of medical supplies: syringes and needles being the majority. They began to move around, setting up a scene that looked oddly similar to the infirmary upstairs.

“In this task,” Reginald’s voice echoed through hidden speakers in the room, “you will be put under both psychological and physical stress. All you have to do is tell me to stop without stuttering and the training will be complete for the day. Standby.”

  


Reginald clicked a button on the side of his stopwatch with a sigh. “Five hours, forty eight minutes, nine seconds,” the face blinked at him. He looked back up through the two-way mirror at the kid in the other room, whose tears were pitifully mixing with the blood on his face. With another sigh, he turned back and looked at Pogo. “Send in Grace.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego gets hurt during the mission and Grace has to take care of him.

_Why are there always so many goddamn cameras following us around?_ Diego couldn’t help the anger that bubbled up in his chest with every flash of light. He looked down at the sidewalk below his feet and winced at the growing puddle of blood. Common sense told him that it was too small to notice, but there was that nagging voice in his head that told him that all cameras were pointed at that spreading stain in the concrete. They were going to find out how weak he was. Reginald was going to find out and he was going to be pissed.

The ride home was quiet and tense. There were far too many deaths that round, far too much blood spilled. Klaus was the one who was most clearly affected. He once told Diego that a lot of the people that got killed on missions often came back to him later—and they weren’t happy. Diego shuddered; he couldn’t imagine what it must be like to see all of their… _victims? targets? casualties?_ He didn’t want to think about it.

As soon as the car pulled outside, Diego was out of his seat. He rushed past the usual crowd of screaming fans, keeping his head low so they couldn’t see his face. It’s not like they were there for him anyway. There was no way he could ever compete with Luther.

“You’re bleeding,” Grace said from her position in the front entrance. “How are you feeling, Diego?”

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

Grace pursed her lips and shook her head. “Follow me.”

  


The infirmary was always one of Diego’s favorites. Usually they were only there for anatomy lessons, which Grace would always give with that soft smile and kind voice of hers. Just her presence alone staved off the cold of the clinical room.

Diego was glad for that as he walked into the white room. He left his clothes folded nicely on the counter, deciding last minute to keep his binder on. The injury was on his lower stomach where it didn’t reach, so he hoped Grace wouldn’t make him take it off.

“Oh, Diego,” came a soft sigh as his mom walked in. “What happened?”

“I got distracted.” There was a little girl amongst the hostages. One of the gunmen threatened to kill her if she didn’t stop crying, and Diego didn’t even have to think when the gun was pointed in her direction. The bullet in his skin meant there wasn’t one in hers, and that made Diego proud.

Grace hummed and got to work checking out his wound. “I see. I’m proud of you for being so brave.”

A familiar tightness formed in Diego’s chest and he blinked back tears. “Thank you, Mom. Will I be okay to do training tomorrow?”

“That wouldn’t be wise. It isn’t in your body anymore, but I think this might need stitches.”

Ice cold fear rushed down Diego’s spine and he flinched. “What?” The tension grew and his neck muscles strained. “No,” he stuttered.

“Don’t worry,” Grace smiled calmly, turning away to grab a needle and thread.

Diego’s heart pounded as he eyed the long, silver needle. “I can’t.” The words fell off his lips like rotten fruit from a high tree. They left a sour taste in his mouth, which only got worse when he gagged.

“I know needles are scary, but we have to do this if you want to get better.” To her credit, Grace was being more kind and understanding than Reginald ever could have been. It would have been comforting if she wasn’t walking towards him with a needle that seemed to stretch longer and longer with each step she took.

  


Next thing Diego knew, he was laying in his bed, Grace stroking his hair. “What…?” There was a dull ache in his arm and he glanced down. Neat stitches lined the gash on his torso.

“You passed out,” Grace said quietly. “I stitched you up and then carried you here.”

“Thank you,” Diego replied, barely able to keep the stutter out of his voice. The thought of a needle in him made his skin crawl.

The moment was soon cut short with a sharp knock. “Number Two,” Reginald barked. “I trust you are feeling better?” He didn’t wait for Diego to respond. “Get up. You have some extra training tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego tries to deal with Ben's death by writing a eulogy.

Diego was just numb. He’d felt numb since Klaus told him the news that Ben… well, he still couldn’t (or just wouldn’t?) say. Grace said that it was normal to be in an emotionless state after the loss of a loved one, but Diego wasn’t sure if he’d bought it. It was hard not to hear the constant sobbing from Allison’s room. And at least Luther coped with exercise. Reginald made sure to tell Diego how productive that was. It didn’t matter, though. All Diego did was sit there and stare at the wall.

It was Grace’s idea for him to write a eulogy for Ben’s funeral. “A way to process,” she said with a kind smile and a gentle hand on his back. Who was Diego to refuse?

So, when he wasn’t eating or training, Diego was behind his closed bedroom door, trying his best to put all of his thoughts into words. The first time he tried, he quickly gave up with some anger. He’d been speaking English all of his life, but he couldn’t manipulate the words and force them onto the paper. The second time, he sat there for a little while longer, still stuck on how to start the damn thing. It wasn’t until he happened to hear the soft, mournful sound of Vanya’s violin when he realized what he’d been doing wrong. He spent his whole time trying to force the words, when he just needed to let them go free. And so Diego’s eulogy was finished a day later.

Diego practiced reading the speech in front of the mirror for hours on end. He was determined to speak clearly and from the heart at Ben’s funeral, even if it killed him. Eventually, he was able to form the words so easily he could barely even remember that he had a stutter. He smiled proudly at his reflection, and for a moment he could imagine Ben standing just behind him, wearing a similar grin on his face.

  


There were too many cameras. Lights flashed, momentarily blinding Diego and making him blink, which caused even more tears to fall. He was suddenly grateful for Klaus’s advice, and he tilted his head down to look at his shoes. At least those weren’t giving him a massive headache. Yet.

He filed into the pew, shoved between Luther and Allison. He continued to stare at the ground, his shoelaces, anything so he wouldn’t have to see the gap that existed between Klaus and Vanya.

“Afternoon.”

Diego knew it was the mayor speaking. _Because of course Reginald would get the mayor to speak,_ he thought angrily.

“We are gathered here to celebrate the life of one Ben Hargreeves. A boy taken too early in his life, he was a hero to many, including myself…” Diego couldn’t help but tune the mayor out. Her false words made him sick to his stomach.

Diego took a deep breath and slipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it, though he didn’t need to. All of that practice was enough for him to have his speech fully memorized. However, as he looked at the words on the shaking paper, he realized just how daunting the task ahead of him was.

“I would like to introduce our first speaker: Ben’s brother, and close friend. Diego Hargreeves!” The mayor motioned for him to join her on the stage with a smile and suddenly all eyes were on him. Cameras flashed quickly, looking like strobe lights at a club. There was even some anticipatory chatter that made its way through the hall.

He quickly plastered on a neutral expression to hide his feelings of disgust at just how tasteless everything about this was. _It’s a funeral, not a damn gameshow._ He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he made his way to the front of the stage. The mayor pulled him into a quick, awkward hug—did he really just hear Klaus laugh?—before letting him pass.

Diego slowly climbed up to the podium, his shaking hands making the paper flutter in front of the microphone. He cleared his throat, adjusted his weight on his feet, and began.

Or, he would have if his fucking mouth would work for once. He could feel the familiar tension building in his neck and just behind his teeth. This was easily his worst bout of stuttering yet, and of course it was in front of a huge audience and a bunch of cameras, at his brother’s funeral. His entire face was frozen into a bust of pain and weakness. It was only after the paper fluttered out of his hands and landed on the ground that he could finally move his body again. So, Diego ran. He ran like his life depended on it; away from the podium, away from Ben’s body, away from the mayor, away from the paparazzi and their cameras, away from the funeral home. Wind whipped at his face, blowing his tears across his skin, but Diego couldn’t care.

That night, when he and his siblings were back in the Academy, nobody mentioned Diego’s episode. He would have thought that they had all forgotten about it, if not for what he found on his bed after dinner: his folded up eulogy that he dropped. When he opened it, he gasped at what he saw. There, in the margins and between the lines of carefully typed words, were the hand-written notes of his siblings. Four different colors of ink made his black and white words spring to life. Reading the additions is what made his numbness finally ebb, leaving in its wake a new tide of emotions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego runs into an exceptionally high Klaus while out on patrol for the police academy.

This was supposed to be just a routine patrol assignment. Nights like these were always a favorite around the academy because of how low-stress they were. Usually they would fill out a couple parking tickets, help an old lady across the street, do a few wellness checks. Routine, easy, low-stress. He even got a chance to hit on a classmate, Patch, before heading out. All signs pointed to a very normal night. But when was anything ever normal for a Hargreeves kid, especially Diego? At least, that’s what he thought when he saw a familiar figure stumble into a poorly-lit alleyway.

“Shit, Klaus?” he muttered, immediately veering the car to the side of the road and jumping out. “Klaus!”

The figure turned: it was Klaus. Diego wasn’t sure if that was a victory or not. He decided on not when he ran into traffic to come towards him. “D!” Klaus shouted the nickname, not even batting an eye at a car that almost hit him. “Diego, how are you? God, you look good. Very buff. I see you got the surgery?” He motioned to his chest.

“Jesus,” Diego rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair for a moment. “How high are you?”

“No, D. It’s ‘Hi, how are you?’” Klaus had to lean against the car to giggle at his own overused joke.

“What were you doing? It’s the middle of the night, shouldn’t you be at home? Sleeping?”

Klaus giggled, staring at a spot a bit behind and to the left of Diego. “I was. There’s a dumpster in that alley that’s warm and almost never used. Doesn’t even smell bad! My friend John showed it to me. Before he got murdered. Or was that after?”

At that point, Diego wasn’t even listening to him anymore; his mind was still stuck on the fact that _Klaus was sleeping in a dumpster._ “What do you mean? Do you not have a place?”

“Well, no. But I did once stay at a friend’s house for a couple weeks. He kicked me out, though.”

  


Somehow, the conversation wound its way to Klaus sitting on Diego’s couch in the gym he was staying at for the time being. Klaus was babbling on, for once not annoying the other living person in the room. If he was sober, he would have appreciated it. But he was too high to either notice or care, so he just kept talking to his audience of two.

Diego froze each time he heard Ben’s name come out of Klaus’ mouth. He kept looking at the couch expecting to see him sitting there, but it was always just the one brother. “So, Klaus,” he started, hoping that the subject of Ben would drop. “You’ve just been… living on the streets?”

“Oh yeah, baby! Life on the town is exhilarating! Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Have you been sober even once?”

Klaus scoffed and brought an offended hand to his chest. “Why the hell would I get sober? Sobriety is… boring. And loud. There’s no reason.”

“How do you pay for all of these drugs if you’re so broke?”

“I have talents!” Klaus smirked at the spot on the couch next to him. “Okay, technically it’s illegal. But at least I don’t kill anybody!”

“Jesus,” Diego said for the second time that night. “So not only are you poisoning yourself, you’re also… doing that in order to do it?”

Klaus rolled his eyes and slumped lower on the couch. “Don’t lecture me on this.”

But Diego didn’t care. Here he was, his brother high out of his mind on his couch because he was caught almost going to sleep in a fucking dumpster. “You’re throwing your life away. You could do so much—”

“With my powers?” Klaus interrupted. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with the ability to see random dead people? Set up a medium service at the local farmer’s market? Become a detective for… murders, or something?”

“Well…”

“No!” Klaus scoffed, glaring at Diego. “I’m not doing any of that! I mean, you can actually do something. You’re a cop right? There you go!”

Diego rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Why are you doing this to yourself, bro?”

“Because, _bro_ ,” Klaus rolled his eyes just as hard, “being me and being sober fucking sucks. When I try to get sober, I go _there_. And they’re so loud. All of the time. This is the only thing that makes existence even slightly bearable.”

“What?” Diego was used to Klaus brushing things off. This was new. “Where?” Address one thing at a time so as to not scare off Klaus.

“The mausoleum Dad used to lock me in.”

“He what?” The words got stuck in Diego’s throat. Of course he was stuttering now of all times.

“Christ, you guys never noticed anything about me,” Klaus giggled, his arms crossing over his chest, making him look oddly like a corpse. “Dad would come into my room, pump me full of these drugs to knock me out. Then, I’d wake up in a little cement box surrounded by little ghosties. Fun family times all around.” Klaus paused for a moment like he was listening to somebody. “No, I’m not going to therapy!”

“I didn’t say that you should. If anything, you should go to rehab.”

“I’m not doing that either! Why am I here?” Klaus shakily got to his feet. “Thanks for letting me take a bath, but I’m out.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry,” Diego stood too, holding his hands up like it would herd Klaus back to the couch. “Please stay.

Klaus spun around, a joint somehow already hanging off his lips. “Why do you care?”

  


The following conversation was like pulling teeth. Diego was convinced that catching a cloud with a net would have been easier than trying to get him to focus long enough to talk about the too-serious matter at hand. Of course, the conversation was even longer than it had to be because of that fucking stutter that always popped up whenever Diego was trying to say something important. At least Klaus had the courtesy to let him work through it, though. The same couldn’t be said for most people.

The next morning, Diego was alone. He shouldn’t have been surprised, this was Klaus, but it still caused an ache in his chest when he thought about it for any longer than he had to. A few trinkets off of the shelves were missing, but Diego couldn’t bring himself to mourn their loss. They were surely off in some pawn shop and Klaus had a new wad of cash in his pocket. Diego just prayed the money went towards food.

It didn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego decides to go back to the police academy and give it another shot.

It took them two years to get to this point. Two years of hurtling through time and space doing seemingly insignificant things to stop the apocalypse from happening. Two years of healing for all of them: Luther coming to terms with how much of a monster their Dad really was, Allison trying to get therapy as often as possible, Klaus getting sober and learning that _he can fucking levitate and he has telekinesis what the fuck,_ Five working on his intimacy issues, Ben socializing with his siblings as long as Klaus could keep him corporeal, Vanya working through her mountains of issues and trying to control her powers. Diego felt like he was constantly being pulled in all different directions, and as nice as it was to see his siblings improving, the dull ache never left his chest when he thought about her. Eudora.

Whenever Diego closed his eyes, the image of her laying limp and bloody on the floor of that damned motel room was all he could see. He refused to let Klaus conjure her, not until he could show some results. That doesn’t mean he didn’t miss her, though.

When Five called a family meeting to announce that he thinks they finally averted the apocalypse, he did so with a smile. Klaus cheered and kissed his boyfriend, Dave, and the others cheered right along with him.

“When are we going to settle down? Live?” Diego asked once everybody calmed down.

“It would make the most sense to go back to before Dad died,” Five replied. “In this universe, that would cause the least amount of tension. Does anybody have any other specific event they have to fix?”

“You’re asking us?” Klaus laughed, looking away from his boyfriend for once.

“I have one.” _This isn’t going to work. Five’s going to refuse. There’s no point in asking._ “I want to go back to the police academy. Become a detective.”

  


That’s how Diego ended up standing at the entrance to the Metro Police Department for the first day of training. The dress shirt he was wearing stuck to his chest, summoning memories of when he wore a binder to a mission. Off to the side, Five, Allison, and Vanya gave Diego an excited thumbs up.

Diego scanned the faces of who would be his classmates for the coming weeks as he walked to the classroom. Some of them were people he recognized from the last time he did this, but others seemed to be brand new. Or he just didn’t talk to them the first time around, which was highly likely.

The seat in the back corner of the classroom called to him. _Just watch from afar. Low stress._ Diego shook his head and took a seat right near the front. This time was going to be different. He was going to make a good first impression and continue being good after that. _For Eudora._

Almost like Diego thinking her name summoned her, Eudora appeared in the doorway. She scanned the classroom before she started moving towards the back. On her way, she brushed past him, and he was sure he died right there. She was even wearing the same goddamned perfume. Diego bought her a bottle on their one year anniversary. He couldn’t remember if they were “on again” or “off again” at that point, but he knew for a fact that she wore it anyway. Sometimes, he could swear he smelled it on her when he found her… _Bad digression. She’s alive. That doesn’t matter anymore._

The instructor walked into the class and took her place at the front. Diego tried to pay attention, but knowing that he was in the same room as Eudora freaking Patch was so intoxicating he could barely focus for more than a few seconds. It was only when the instructor announced “Lunch,” that he realized how much time had passed.

He slowly stood from his seat, watching how the others in the room paired up and walked out. They made their way to the courtyard, which was quickly running out of places to sit. Thankfully, there was one beneath a birch tree. He sat on the concrete, warmed by the sun, and took out a thermos, a metal spoon, and a napkin. His bite was interrupted when he suddenly felt somebody sit down beside him, accompanied by the smell that could only be described as Eudora.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m Eudora, but you can call me Patch.”

“D-Diego.” Of course he fucking stuttered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day that Diego’s been waiting for has finally arrived. Let’s just hope he doesn’t stutter when it counts.

The air was light and crisp and fresh and everything it wasn’t just a few years before. Even waking up in an empty bed wasn’t enough to put a damper on Diego’s spirits because that cooled space next to him meant that _it was happening._ He got out of bed and pulled open the curtains. The sunlight warmed his muscles as he stretched, his fingers brushing over his skin.

The serenity shattered when there were sudden knocks on his door. “Get the fuck up, Diego!” Of course it was Klaus.

“I’m awake! Jesus, you’ll wake up the whole hotel.”

“Well good!” He could hear a giggle and the uneven footstep pattern that always followed Klaus whenever he tried to skip.

Diego smiled and shook his head, turning back to the closet. He only had so much time before his family invaded his room to coordinate the final touches of their outfits, so he’d better get started. The suit hanging in his closet seemed to glow in the morning light. He reached out and touched the fabric, which was warm and inviting. With a deep breath, he began to take it off the hanger.

He’d only managed to pull his pants on by the time he heard a voice behind him. “Wow,” Five scoffed at how behind he was. “Need some help there, Diego?”

If it was a few years before, Five would have a knife pressed up to his throat, trapping him against the nearest wall. Thankfully, Diego was used to being snuck up on. He stopped with the knife about seven months after the apocalypse, and was finally able to quell the urge to pin the not-attacker against the nearest wall three months after that. Instead of threatening his life, Diego just turned around. “Well don’t you just look plain adorable,” he deadpanned, looking at the child-sized suit Five was wearing.

Five’s face contorted into a look of disgust. “You—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Diego waved his hand and turned back to his tuxedo. “You’re actually really old and I shouldn’t disrespect my elders.”

“I never thought I could look this good and this formal,” Klaus muttered to Dave as they walked into the room.

“I wouldn’t really call that formal, babe.”

Diego chuckled and shook his head, not even needing to turn to see what they were talking about. The months leading up to the wedding were full of arguments about what those were in the wedding would be wearing. Klaus, of course, would never be caught dead in a traditional tuxedo. Literally: one night he’d told them he wanted to be buried in a skirt and a crop top. Which is why he was currently strutting about Diego’s hotel room in what seemed to be a cross between a suit and the type of dress a hooker would wear on a Friday night. It was fine, though. Klaus looked just about as classy as he could get and he wasn’t showing too much skin, so Diego wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, he finally turned to smile at all of the people crowded in his room: his siblings plus Dave. His family. “It’s happening today,” he said, tears most definitely not gathering in his eyes.

“Just don’t stutter,” Allison smiled and winked.

“Love you too, sis.” The clink of the black cufflinks made his sentence sound light and airy, or maybe that was just him. “Let’s hope my marriage goes better than that one movie you did. _The Wolf,_ was it called? Yikes.”

“You’re lucky it’s your wedding day, asshole.”

Vanya couldn’t help but look between the two warily. While there was some healing in the years before, everybody still had their underlying issues. Thankfully, she had no reason to be worried. The conversation turned to light banter around her, and she was even able to add in a few quips of her own before Diego asked Dave if his tie was straight.

“Straighter than me,” he winked and pulled Klaus closer.

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You look great, Diego,” Luther smiled. If he said that a few years ago, they would have thought the comment was meant to be backhanded in some way. But they were better. There were still a few spats here and there, but for the most part, Luther and Diego got along in a way that would surely make Reginald’s skin crawl. Once, Klaus almost summoned him just so he could see how well they all were doing without him. 

“A few more minutes,” Ben announced.

“Then you’ll be Diego Patch,” Vanya said, proud tears pricking at the backs of her eyes.

Dave stood and grinned, clapping Diego on the back. “We should go get in our lines.”

“Bye, love.” Klaus kissed Dave, then linked his arm with Diego. “As the groom and the Best Person, Diego and I—respectively—are just too cool to stand in lines.”

The next few minutes stretched into millennia while somehow fitting into just a blink of an eye. Everything snapped into focus as soon as the first notes of the procession song started playing.

“It’s starting,” Klaus whispered.

Diego was too entranced to respond. People started to make their way down the aisle and he froze. _This is real. This is happening. I’m marrying Eudora Patch._ Everybody was bright and beaming, some already had tears in their eyes. Diego watched each person carefully, determined to remember every detail without even needing to look at the photos.

He would scold himself later for being so cliche, but when Eudora stepped into the aisle, it was like nothing else in the universe existed. It was just her. The swish of the dress around her ankles was all he could hear, the perfect makeup on her perfect face was all he could see, the perfume he knew she would be wearing was all he could smell. He didn’t even notice when Klaus clapped a hand on his shoulder. It was only Eudora in that moment.

Diego only noticed that he was crying when Eudora (when did she get that close?) reached out and brushed a tear from his cheek. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to gush how absolutely beautiful she was, how lucky he was, but Allison’s words suddenly came back to him. _Just don’t stutter._ Suddenly, he was very glad that they decided to save their personal vows until it was just the two of them, in private.

Then, the officiant said _those words._ All eyes were on him. Eudora’s hands squeezed his comfortingly. Of course she could see how nervous he was about this. He took a breath and the familiar tension built up in his neck. But then he looked into her eyes. Those warm, brown, soft eyes. And the tension melted away.

“I do,” he said, not stuttering one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! One chapter goes up a day until the fic is over. Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


End file.
